Boredom
by Don't-Deserve-To-Be-Saved
Summary: James Moriarty decided that boredom was much, much worse than death. No matter how hopeless everything was around him.


This is the starting of my greatest fear.

I do not get scared. I have never known the how it is to feel afraid. Up until this very second I have never even experienced said emotion, which is saying something considering what I've done.

I'm a horrible person. Mind you, I do not regret it. I cannot think of one good deed I have ever committed intentionally. I suppose when I was younger and more naive I showed more mercy than I do now. But that was such a long time ago; I have changed. For the better business wise, people wise not so much. Not that people have ever mattered to me.

Oh, the power I have earned since then. To think I was once a small, frail boy who hid in the shadows is ridiculous. A small boy who discovered how easy it was to become God; how easy it was to decide who lives and who dies. Even more effortless to become a master of disguise; now I can hide in plain sight and still not one person would suspect me of anything.

It's just too easy. I have never met somebody more intelligent than I am. Which is a shame, I get so very bored. There is no one alive who can match my wit or follow my train of thought. I look so often for someone to dance with; the business just isn't a risk anymore.

No thrill is there when I commit the perfect crime, whether it is a murder, kidnapping, or robbery. I feel nothing when I am handsomely paid for my services. I no longer feel any sort of smug joy when they come to me at their absolute lowest saying, "Dear Jim, would you please fix it for me?"

There is nothing for me here to entertain anymore. Not to say there was much for me to begin with. A genius does not play well with others, especially when they are all morons. It was all just too simple. It was so easy to tell that my first grade teacher was having an affair with the headmaster, that little Mandy had stolen her older brother's favorite toy and had broken it. It was clear that the CEO was lying; he hadn't stayed home during spring break like he told his wife. He was really with a lover in France, and a man at that. I could tell all of this by simply observing them for a few seconds.

So why did I stay? After all that searching, all that time spent looking for someone as brilliant as I, it turns out he was right where I had been. London, England. All this time here he was! Only he was an angel. A man with morals, one who would always choose the right thing to do, very different than I.

I went into a rage, at first. Why hadn't I seen him before? Where was he so well hidden so that I didn't find him? Then I discovered that he had been checked into rehab for several years. He could have gotten out sooner if it weren't for the suicide attempts, which I could easily understand having been there several times before. He had previously been addicted to cocaine, when his big brother found out and dumped him at an expensive rehab.

And what a big brother he had. Mycroft Holmes. Practically the entire British government when he wasn't too busy playing the caring big brother for his younger sibling. I decided he would be useful later. But first I had to grab his younger brother's attention. Sherlock Holmes, the one and only consulting detective in the entire world. He was always running about solving cases for the Scotland Yard and probably the closest thing he had to a friend, Gregory Lestrade. I was so excited to meet him; I had laid out my plan so carefully. Everything had to be perfect. I had to impress him, of course. This man was, in all probability, the only human being alive who was as brilliant as I.

Then that stupid army doctor came along. How dare he distract my equal from the game! That bastard had fucked up my entire plan. Well, not entirely; nobody could do that. But my original plan was much more elegant and smooth. I was a bit disappointed that I could not use it. But it was still so much fun to watch him figure it all out. How fast the gears in his head turned as he solved (as the blond idiot doctor liked to call it) The Study in Pink, how he discovered the illegal, underground Chinese black market located in London (John Watson also had a name for this too, "The Blind Banker"). And after the mere mention of my name, he was out to find me. It was then I knew I just had to meet him in person.

For three weeks I had pretended to be Molly Hooper's boyfriend to meet Sherlock Holmes. Molly finally introduced me to him, yet she did not know me as James Moriarty. I was Jim. Jim from I.T. How humorous it was to meet him. He did not deduce that I was the criminal he was looking for. But that was rather the whole point. How fun it was to play the gay, stumbling, shy Jim from I.T. Whilst Molly was going on about office romance, Sherlock stated "Gay", confusing Molly. He covered it up by saying hey. I dropped a petri dish that was next to him and set it back on the table with my number on it rather awkwardly. I left all of them (the doctor was there too, like the good pet he was) in an embarrassing silence.

I knew Molly would ask about why Sherlock called me gay; I knew that Sherlock would tell her. He would say it was obvious, I was well groomed, I put product in my hair and my underwear was above the waist, showing off a brand that only homosexual men wore. John would protest, Sherlock would stop him and then show the number I had left for him. Molly would run off, clearly upset and his faithful little pet would get mad at him and tell Sherlock that what he did wasn't kind. And Sherlock wouldn't care, because he has been told for so long he doesn't have a heart he completely believes it.

After he solved a few more puzzles I laid out for him, we finally met. He chose the venue, the pool where I had had killed my first victim, Carl Powers, at age eight. Carl laughed at me, so I made his heart stop. I could make Watson's heart stop too. The look of confusion on Sherlock's face when John walked out wearing a big winter coat saying everything I told him to through his earpiece was priceless no matter how fleeting it was. Then John unzipped it, showing Sherlock the giant bomb strapped around his waist. It was time. I came out of the shadows to face Sherlock Holmes.

A lot has happened since I met the world's only consulting detective. I have had too much power it would seem. I have no use of it now; now I am tired of it. I have had all the power in the world, and the best part was that nobody knew. Nobody but Sherlock. After messing with his head and making everbody believe he was the villian, I confronted him one final time.

And then, after my last hope was destroyed, the hope that Sherlock was still my equal, I ended it. I ended it all. But now I am scared. Scared for the very first time in my life. There is nothing here; just darkness and despair. I wish I could get out, but then again, I am no longer bored.

And boredom is much, much worse than death. No matter how hopeless everything is around me.

**A/N Sorry if this is a bit OOC for Moriarty. I figured he would still prefer death than boredom. And I have not seen The Great Game in a looong time, so I apologize if I made some mistake in Sherlock's deduction about Jim from I.T being gay. Didn't he say something about the brand being a homosexual brand? I mean, I felt horrible writing it, it being so stereotypical. And Sherlock always talks really fast and he has an accent and I'M REALLY SORRY! PLEASE correct me if I'm mistaken! I don't mean to insult anybody!**

***goes into a panic attack***

**Sherlock bbc does not belong to me or else Sherlock and Moriarty would be in some really messed up relationship. Apologies to any John/Sherlock shippers out there.**


End file.
